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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642214">My Fault.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel'>boppgoestheweasel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dadschlatt collection [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, DadSchlatt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Maybe OOC, Quackity needs a Hug, Quackity-central, Rated for swearing, baby tubbo, no beta we always die like men, uncle quackity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:27:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Quackity puts Schlatt’s own faults onto himself, despite the fact that they had both been young and stupid.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity &amp; Jschlatt, Jschlatt &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dadschlatt collection [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>191</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Fault.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello after some time! this was a suggestion from user brigatoniii! I hope this doesn't seemed rushed or anything. This will be the last fic until maybe next month, but that's just because I put together a Karl Jacobs MAP and so far things have been a bit wild! So I just wanted to get this out there as an apology and just a quick lil heads up. </p>
<p>As always, everything I write is based solely on the characters in the Dream SMP roleplay, never the real people! However, if any CCs mentioned are uncomfortable with anything I've written about, it will be deleted immediately.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Quackity truly can’t stop thinking about how everything adds up, even if he was reaching just a tad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, he wasn’t responsible for Schlatt. No one is responsible for anyone other than themselves. But that didn’t mean that Quackity didn’t put so much shame on himself because of the course of events. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were literally teenagers. So young, so stupid. He was 17, Schlatt was 18- best friends. They did nearly everything together except for this one specific time; if Quackity had been there, maybe Schlatt’s life wouldn’t be in absolute shambles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man was struggling, to say the least. He was 20 with a 2 year old son and only worked nights so he could come back home and care for his baby. Quackity was starting business college after his gap year and did his best to support Schlatt as best as he could, even though his friend wouldn’t allow him to give him money. Schlatt was an alcoholic (he refused to call himself it, though); the man couldn’t put down a bottle for the life of him. It was like he had twins- a real baby and a whiskey bottle sat in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, Schlatt was responsible for himself, obviously. But at night, especially ones like these, where he and Schlatt are trying to get Tubbo to stay asleep, he thinks that he could’ve done so much better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity was never a party person. He usually stuck close to the wall in the off chances he went to parties. Schlatt would usually be the one to drag him along, venturing off into the crowd while Quackity held his solo cup. Anytime he went, he would much rather be doing something else, but he went for Schlatt’s sake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re good company, man.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Schlatt would say as he drove with the duck to the first party he dragged him to. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Plus if I get shitfaced, you can be the one to drive my ass home.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity went most times, mostly because Schlatt was so relentless when it came to bothering the boy about it. And Quackity knew it was irresponsible for them to both go, but he never said anything. Neither of them did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Quackity regrets everything about not doing so. Maybe if he had said something about Schlatt’s party issue or blossoming drinking habits, maybe Schlatt would’ve stopped going to parties altogether. Maybe he wouldn’t have kept going if Quackity profusely refused each time. Maybe Quackity could’ve directed the man in a different way, taken him to do better things. And the duck-hybrid </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>regrets that one night in particular, where he had actually refused to go. No matter how much Schlatt begged or pleaded. Quackity’s answer was a firm no; in fact he had lied, said he was sick. He said he was too sick to go anywhere, that he didn’t feel like getting out of bed to go to some stupid party- that last bit was definitely true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he had lied to his best friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s the night everything went to shit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity hadn’t heard about it until a month later, when Schlatt showed up in a panic, blubbering about some girl he knew who was pregnant with his kid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, okay wait. How long has she been pregnant? What the hell happened?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“A month. She’s been pregnant for like, a month.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first it didn’t even occur to Quackity, the date of conception. Schlatt regularly hooked up with girls so it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>shocking, but he was always safe about it. Unless he was… too drunk to think…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s what made Quackity skyrocket awake a week after receiving the news. He was piecing it together… Schlatt slept with some girl at that party he had refused to go to. That was the only way. The only girl he slept with that month was her, because finals for the semester were coming up and Schlatt didn’t go out with anyone after that “one last hurrah.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Schlatt was too drunk to drive home which led to him seeking out a place to stay which led to him latching onto the first choice… undoubtedly that girl. He didn’t know her name, he probably had never even seen her before in his life. But there they were, unintentionally ready to have a baby together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was all Quackity’s fault.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, that’s what he thinks. He never told anyone, he never told Schlatt that he lied. Anytime it crosses his mind, he just thinks over and over again, until suddenly there’s nothing more about it to think about, having analyzed every corner of the situation until next time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was apparently one of those times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quackity?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Q was pulled back to reality as Schlatt gave a pat to his face, a sort of wake-up call. He looked down to see Tubbo sleeping in the makeshift crib. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, huh? What’s up?” Quackity shook his head, trying to clear it from the muddled thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just asked if you wanna go out and get some food, or something. I got a bonus a couple nights ago, and since it’s not much I figured you and I could go for something. I don’t fucking know. And then it’s as if you blacked the fuck out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity blinked. “Uh, no. No, keep your money, J. Maybe use it for baby stuff.” Quackity smiled. “I mean, that thrift store down the street has some good finds, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, sometimes I guess. Fine then, let’s just hang out here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds fine to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t sound fine at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity was taken aback. He slowed his pace down the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sound all flustered, I don’t know. Like as if someone just bit you or some shit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Quackity chuckled. “Yeah, um… actually I just- I’ve been thinking…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? About what? It makes you look dead inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity laughed again. “Right. It makes me feel like it too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Schlatt turned to Quackity- they were now sitting on the couch. Quackity looked into Schlatt’s tired eyes while tears brimmed his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I just… I threw everything in the gutter for you… you’re all-” Quackity’s voice cracked as a sob came out of his mouth. Schlatt jumped a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Q-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re all fucked up because of me! It’s all my- my fault!” Quackity threw himself forward onto Schlatt, who was still incredibly confused. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Schlatt was silent for a moment as Quackity’s sobs bounced off the walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quackity, what the fuck are you talking about? Did you put poison in my cereal or some shit?” Schlatt pulled Quackity up so he could see his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The party… the party you got that girl knocked up at. I should’ve just gone… this never would have happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What- Tubbo? Tubbo never would’ve happened? What the hell are you on about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was supposed to take you home, J! But I wasn’t there! So you went with that girl… and now look at us. Fucking lost. You’re fucking lost, and it’s my-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say it’s your fault again, I swear to god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity closed his mouth into a quivering stupor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not your fault, it was my fault for being a fucking dumbass. You couldn’t have controlled what I did anyway, idiot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity sniffed. “Well no, but I could’ve prevented it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? Well you weren’t gonna be there all the damn time. It was bound to happen eventually. I would’ve never… ugh, ‘lived and learned’ as you always say.” Schlatt rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re getting snot all over my sweater.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry-” Quackity sat up and wiped his face with his sleeve. Schlatt gave a small laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what you get all sweaty over? You were sick, you couldn’t have gone anyway. It doesn’t really matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity nearly broke into tears once again. “I-I was never actually sick-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I lied…” Quackity’s lips quivered. “I just didn’t want to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Schlatt’s frame dropped a bit. “Well cmon, Q. This was what, nearly three years ago?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity nodded. “Yeah but-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Yeah but’ nothing. Maybe I woulda strangled you back then, but now? I don’t even have time for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he said this, a cry rippled through the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See? No time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were both fucking stupid. If I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so drunk </span>
  </em>
  <span>that I knocked up a chick? There was no way you would’ve known how to stop me anyway. So stop living in the goddamn past, I’m done there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quackity smiled and followed Schlatt to the crying baby’s room. Maybe shit would be okay.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you had a good read!! It was a bit shorter, I know, but there are a few more from this series to come! I'll see you soon :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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